


Healing Up

by Not_You



Series: one only understands the things that one tames [8]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Clint is a greasemonkey, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Frottage, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Oral Sex, clint is a good boy yes he is, phil has needs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 12:38:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Clint uses downtime productively.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Healing Up

Clint eventually rids the world of his target and most of the man’s top henchmen, but he does so at the cost of his first real trip to medical in a long time. Phil can’t help but panic, even if it just some stitches. Clint doesn’t even lose enough blood to need a transfusion, but once Phil gets him home, it’s still a long time before he can let him go. Clint is calm. Elated, even, but he seems to understand Phil’s clinginess and just sits there in his lap and allows himself to be cuddled. Phil just holds him tight and breathes in the disinfectant and the fabric softener from Clint’s t-shirt and underneath it all the smell of Clint, alive and safe.

When Phil finally pulls his face out of Clint’s shoulder, Clint smiles down at him. “Feeling better, boss?”

“A bit.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m hungry.”

“Do you demand culinary tribute?”

“Sure, but in a nice way.”

Phil laughs and kisses his neck. “What should I give you?”

“What do we have?”

They go to the kitchen together to answer this question, and Phil cooks them each a steak to Clint’s exacting specifications, along with some steamed vegetables and actual fries, even though Phil hardly ever deep fries anything because of the way it spatters the stove top. With Clint patched up, clean, fed, and wide awake, Phil really has no choice but let him get back to work on the bike. He does his best not to hover around too much, and finally settles for doing his paperwork in the next room, just able to hear Clint singing ‘Soul Kitchen’ to himself as he clinks and clatters away at his project.

Clint comes in hours later, and Phil is glad to see that his bandage is clean where it’s wrapped around the top of his left arm. The rest of him hasn’t fared so well, and Phil grins. “My greasemonkey,” he coos, getting up to kiss a clean spot on Clint’s cheek. Clint chuckles, and lets Phil open doors and turn taps for him so he doesn’t leave smears everywhere.

“How’s the bike coming?” Phil asks as Clint scrubs up.

“Pretty well, actually. The damage is almost fixed, and I’ve got some ideas for customizing it.”

“Going to paint it purple?”

Clint laughs. “Maybe. Manly purple, all dark and subdued. And no fucking glitter, either.”

The bike really does seem to draw out some vein of mostly-hidden artistry in Clint. He spends days of his recuperation period out there with it, tinkering and tuning. He hadn’t paid anything like this much attention to it when it was new, and Phil takes this as a good sign. The only things Clint has never even made noise about destroying are his weapons and the box he keeps under his bed, and they’re also the only things he takes care of. For one of Phil’s gifts to be admitted into this exclusive collection is… gratifying. That’s the safest word for the massive and terrible feeling lurking in his heart. If it were a living creature it would be something fast and heavy, with long claws. He tries to keep it from Clint, gentle to a fault when they’re in bed together, just holding and kissing and stroking Clint. Like most people, Phil is a little bit superstitious about penetration, and Clint hasn’t pushed for it yet. Tonight he just whimpers and ruts against Phil’s thigh, Phil’s heavy hand on the back of his neck guiding him and grounding him. He gazes down at Phil with that lost look in his eyes again, panting and moaning softly as his hips rock, his whole body one long, writhing response. When Phil grabs Clint’s ass with his free hand and squeezes, Clint catches his lower lip between his teeth and groans, eyelids fluttering.

“Look at me,” Phil tells him, not angry but very firm. He needs to see those eyes, needs to see Clint lost in it and utterly helpless. Clint obeys, eyes wide as he stares down at Phil, mouth falling open as Phil’s fingertips just brush his hole.

“Oh,” he whimpers, squirting precome onto Phil’s skin in a sudden, sharp little jet, pushing back and moaning as Phil rubs him. “Oh, please, please sir…”

“Tell me what you want,” Phil purrs, and Clint moans and bucks.

“I want you to fuck me, master. I want to suck your cock again and I want your fingers inside me and I want to come,” Clint gasps, wild-eyed and frantic. “Oh Christ _please_!”

Phil pulls him down into a deep kiss, the fingertips of his other hand pushing hard just behind Clint’s balls, moving with him as he grinds and jerks, moving faster and faster until he’s coming, letting out a wail and fighting to keep his eyes open even as it sweeps over him, because he’s a good boy. Phil tells him so over and over as he slowly calms, hiding his face in the crook of Phil’s neck and shaking. Phil rubs his back and holds him close for a long time. He’s so hard it hurts, but that doesn’t matter. Clint just soaks up the attention before finally pulling back, shyly kissing Phil’s jaw.

“May I please suck you off, master?” He whispers, and Phil shivers.

“You have asked very nicely,” he murmurs, stroking Clint’s hair. He feels a little bit mean, a little bit like teasing and making Clint _really_ beg, but he can’t do it. Not when Clint is still so fragile and Phil wants him so badly. Instead he kisses Clint again and then gently pushes him down, Clint scrambling to comply. He reaches for Phil’s cock, but Phil guides him to the side first. “Clean me up,” he says softly, and Clint freezes for a second before groaning deep in his chest, licking his own come from Phil’s thigh with long, thorough strokes. He’s trembling with eagerness, but he doesn’t stint this task. Phil loves him so much it hurts, but doesn’t say so. It would bad form to say it now, and they’re both distracted. Clean at last (well, close enough, anyway) he guides Clint to his cock and then groans as Clint swallows him whole. This time he’s not taken by surprise, not worried about what this means or how Clint is going to react. Now they can actually talk, and that knowledge is as sweet as coming, gasping and breathless down Clint’s throat. He thrusts a little more than he means to, but Clint takes it, moaning around Phil’s cock as he swallows and swallows, finally crawling up to cling to Phil again. He nuzzles into the side of Phil’s neck and sighs, blushing happily when Phil thanks him and softly praises his grace and obedience, petting him as they both catch their breath.


End file.
